Project United Kingdom
by Treecko Girl
Summary: Ulster.  A region with a vast history of changing feelings towards England.  Can England really tame this wild province?  The one that stood strongest in the Nine Years' War?  OC: Ulster/Northern Ireland


**The history this story is based on is very dear to my heart, which is why I really hope I can continue writing it. I won't continue if it doesn't get enough reviews. I hope that doesn't sound too demanding or needy (laugh). Oh! Does it? Ahh! I'm so sorry! . Well, enjoy anyway! ^.^ **

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><p><em>Ulster - After the Nine Years' War<em>

'You really think we should have control of Ireland?' a young, green eyed man asked in a near-accusing voice. He had short, messy blonde hair and thick eyebrows that were common to those who lived on his land. This man was England.

'Yes,' a woman replied in a more demanding voice. She was the authority figure who ruled over England. In spite of his sharp tongue and dry humour, he could not defy her in any way. 'After the Armada. Especially in Ulster. You are aware that it is the most barbaric of the provinces within that country - its power was greatest in the rebellion. I have spoken with Ireland herself and she is indifferent to the situation. So, we must act ourselves.'

'I see.' England was unsure about gaining more control of Ireland. He wasn't fond of that girl - a girl who shot at him every time she spotted him, and threw him insults if they were trying to maturely discuss serious matters.

'I want you to go to Ulster tonight,' she continued. 'I will send men with you, and you are to strengthen our side on that Irish province.'

'Yes,' England said with a bow. While he was unsure and weary, he was willing.

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><p>'Right! Scout the area and make sure your location is safe to set up for the night!' England commanded. His army obeyed, proceeding to scatter to occupy the section of Ulster they had chosen to conquer first.<p>

England sat down on a crate outside his tent. His sighed an exasperated sigh, wondering if he was doing the right thing. His heart was uneasy at the thought of running into Ireland. She wasn't going to be pleased to see him, and he wouldn't be pleased to see her. There would be somewhat of a fight at hand - to put it mildly - if they came face-to-face.

He looked to the stars. They shone down with indifferent glistening. England allowed a swear to pass his lips, because he felt nothing more mature flow through his mind.

_Bloody Ulster, _he thought. _Traitorous, bloody Ulster. Why can't they just work with us? Why do they have to be so damn rebellious? This is all bloody Ireland's fault. If she would just take more responsibility for Ulster, then it would be Ok!_

Writhing away from the thoughts, England entered his tent and prepared for bed. The Ulster night was different from that of his own country's. It was filled with the distant sounds of animals and the creaks of the woodland around them. It didn't feel like home. England wondered if it ever could feel like a home. Ulster was a very uninhabited province - the most uninhabited.

The light of the lantern outside flickered and danced with the light breeze. The orange and red shapes swelled and swayed without sound.

Then there were footsteps that sounded louder with each thump to the twig and leaf-covered ground.

England shot out of his tent, half-expecting a wild animal or an Irishman intending to kill him, but it was one of his own men approaching.

'Sir,' he said. 'I think there's something you should know.'

'What?'

'A… A, uh, girl has been spotted around the woods,' he continued. He sounded as if he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

England massaged his temples. 'A girl? What do you mean? You came all the way back here to tell me about a girl?'

'S-sir, she's not an ordinary girl,' he said weakly, looking more like a boy than a man with a weapon. 'Sh-she… shows amazing strength, sir.'

'What?' England shot his green gaze forward, startling the man.

'Ah, sh-she attacked some of the men and defeated them with real e-ease,' he stuttered. 'T-then she took off with some of our food.'

'You… Ugh,' England cursed. 'How old was this girl?'

'Uh-ah- about… well…'

It was evident that he knew, but didn't wish to say. England tried his utmost not to loose his temper. 'Just… tell me.'

'Um… she looked only to be of a f-few years, if even,' the man finished. He flinched, obviously expecting his commander to hit him.

England remained silent. His head began to hurt. A girl that young and that strong… England wondered, and a theory hit him. That girl…

'Fine, well, where is she now? Did anyone follow her?'

'Ah, some of the m-men went after her, but I think she managed to loose them. S-sir?'

England had mentally wandered. His thoughts drifted from the current situation. A vague theory wafted through his mind, but he was at a loss concerning proving it. It was impossible to ask Ireland, for that would give away their presence. A girl as young as that defeating grown men… Not an ordinary girl; _that_ England was sure of.

'Sir.'

'Hhm?'

The man swallowed. 'Uh, I sh-should tell you, she was heading this way. That's why I-I came here to tell you.'

'Return to your post,' England commanded.

'Wh-'

'Now.'

'Ah! Y-yes sir!'

The man hurried away, no doubt glad to be rid of the job of messenger boy - the job that always got the bad end of the stick. His footsteps made crunching and snapping sounds against the untouched ground.

'If she comes here, perhaps I'll get an answer to my question. Though, if she's anything like this land…' England muttered to himself, returning to his tent.

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><p>The night was eerily hushed. Only the lick of the breeze over the tent made a whisper of a noise. When the golden light of the flames were extinguished, there was no silver moonlight to replace it. It felt cold and lonely. England couldn't help but yearn for his own land. Then again, if all went well, this would be a part of his own land. This grim woodland… This human-bare forest… He could hardly imagine it.<p>

A new snap of sound greeted England. He flinched in his camp bed, the metal springs' complaints scratching through the air.

'What the bloody hell was that?' England muttered. He sat up, watching the darkness. He waited, but no more sound invaded. Deciding it was a false alarm, England lay back down, but couldn't close his eyes.

Then, there was shuffling noise. The sound of something searching around. It was inside the tent. England immediately shot back up, throwing his legs over the side. He looked round rapidly, his breath and heartbeat speeding up.

_O-Oh shit, _he thought. _Is that an animal? Oh, God. What if it's a wolf?_

As his panicked and frantic judgements scrambled around in his head. England's eyes caught something move against the still shadows. A small figure.

'C-Crap!' England threw himself to the lantern, lighting a match as quickly as he could and bringing gold to the black. The light bleached the tent, and the shadows began to sway again, awakened.

England's eyes immediately found the source of the disturbance. A small child was sitting on the little wooden chair by the table. It was a girl - England could tell by her eyes. They shone with a feminine sparkle, and had long dark eyelashes. Her fair hair was short and messy, much like England's. She wore a brown shirt that reached just below her knees. It had been torn and patched up in several places - evidently having seen a lot of use. She had thick eyebrows, another feature mirroring England's.

The little girl had a piece of bread in her hands. England saw the supply box had been opened and moved. She looked to England as if he wasn't looking at her. The indifference in her features was shocking to him.

'Y-you…! Little girl! What are you doing in here? This is a private tent! And w-what are you doing stealing bread? Don't you have any manners?' England attempted to shout, but couldn't summon enough energy in his voice. Plus, he didn't feel that angry, the shock masked it.

The little girl remained silent, not even flinching. She took a bite from the bread and chewed it leisurely.

'Answer me…!' England continued, taking a step towards the girl.

She finished her bread and jumped off the chair. England watched her in a shocked trance as she inspected the tent. She looked to the lantern, her blue eyes wide with interest. She was like a little animal. The girl then touched the blankets on his bed and proceeded to stare at the flag folded on the ground. It was a Union Flag that England brought to fly when they had more control over the province. She took a hold of it and stared at it as if she was reading a foreign language.

England had a jolt of fear that she would step on it or rip it, but it was only a split second worry. She didn't show any intention of ruining it. She set it back carefully and looked to England with concentration for the first time. It was as if she had only just realised he was in the tent - having blindly turned her gaze to him before. Her blue eyes focused on him, like the eyes of a confused woodland animal.

'Hhm,' she squeaked. She approached him. 'Hhm.'

England stared at her. He kneeled down cautiously. 'Uh… W-who exactly are you? You're too young to be wandering around such a dangerous place, especially at night.'

'Hhm.' It seemed to be the only sound she was capable of making.

'What's your name?' England asked.

The girl's eyes shone with intensity, as if deciding whether to tell this strange man or not. She narrowed them and sighed, drooping her shoulders.

'Ulster,' she finally said. 'My name is Ulster.'

England's heart froze. His instinct was correct. There was no possible way a girl as young as herself could be wandering alone if she wasn't a country or a province. This strong and wild girl was no ordinary human. 'I see. Well, I'm England,' he said, stretching out his hand. 'I'm pleased to meet you.'

'England,' she repeated in a less enthusiastic tone. 'You're England.'

'Ah, yes.'

Ulster scoffed 'Hhm! Right!' and turned to run out of the tent. The material fluttered as she brushed past it.

England reached after her, but when he made his way out of the tent, she had disappeared into the darkness. 'Uh, ah, she's gone…'

The night returned to its previous quiet. The shadows only moved to the rhythm of the light emerging from behind the fabric of the tent.

'Ulster,' England muttered. He looked to the sky, noticing the occasional flicker of a star. That made him feel even more lonely. 'I see…'

England made his way back into his tent, extinguishing the light.

_I wonder… can I - can we - really civilise this province?_

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><p><strong>Why did I make Ulster a girl…? I, uh, don't really know. I like the idea of a tough female. Ah ha! Thanks for reading! I hope with all my heart that I can put chapter two up soon! Please review! Many, many thanks! <strong>


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